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A Cruel Angel's Thesis Being an account of the I Legion Angeli Tenebrae, the war prosecuted against a tyrant Emperor by the Warmaster Horus, and the fall of a Legion. "We, once-merciful Angels, have forgotten sympathy. Ascend now, for our names have become legend." - Attributed to Master Azas Vem, Knight of the Angeli Tenebrae, Blood of Terra, Lord of the Eastern Sphere, Survivor of Rangdan, the First Reaper, and a battle-born brother to Luther of Caliban. +++ The Fall of the Knights of Caliban and of Terra, of the Emperor's holy Angels of Death and Darkness, the revered First, is often attributed in cause to the perfidy of Ser Luther el'Caliban, brother to Lion el'Jonson, Lord of Angels and Slayer of the Last Beast. Rejection and custodianship weighed heavy on my lord Luther's shoulders, until he could stand no longer and broke beneath the strain. Independently of the Warmaster's rebellion of the same era, he made attempt to use the confusion and chaos of war to his advantage, a political gambit to seize the power his Lord had given him and claim the world of Caliban for his own. But he failed, and as a result Caliban was lost and a full half the Legion was lost to void, scattered to space and time. So does the story go among the ranks of my former brothers who even now relentlessly seek me, in a futile effort to redeem their perceived shame. The story is a lie. While it may well be true that the catalyst of the Fall of Angels was the action of Ser Luther, its true roots can be traced back many years prior, long before the Horus Heresy, or the great Crusade that preceded it, before the Genocides of Rangdan, all the way back through the Solar Pacification and the Unification Wars, to the very foundations of the Astartes upon Terra. The processes later founded to raise Legions to strength were merely in the very earliest stages of gestation, and the Emperor still prosecuted his war with the cohorts of the Tontrua Milites that would define that era of the Imperium. At the Legions' incept, many projects were being undergone, variations on the implantation process of geneseed that made a Space Marine. The best known of these were the Firstborn and the Paragons, but many more besides these existed, their names lost to history. The pain of these processes were unlike any other, and is it any surprise that many of those who survived the march of years turned their backs to the Emperor in grave defiance of tyranny? The First Legion's, always, even before the founding of Caliban and its lost primarch, and the subsequent melding with the Order, has been one of layers and complexity of rank and standing. Our organization was the template, yes, but the later Legions never fully knew all of that. The nominal Legion structure outlined by the officiants of Terra was merely a pale reflection in a darkened glass of the original. Circles within and circles without, informal and ritual, hidden, though not always secret: that was what defined us. We knew our place and we held our tongue before others. As such, our disquiet was silent until spoken of. Through our time in the Legion, nary a wayward word, though. There were five of us to begin with. Over time this number grew in strength. By the time of Caliban, our circle numbered in the thousands, all who had the same mind: sic semper tyrannis. The Emperor was a tyrant of the worst sort, and we would one day destroy him. We had chosen our side, even if we never chose to exercise upon our decision until the time was right. We stood in silence with the Warmaster. This tale, this recollection, is a history of our circle. We forwent with mercy and sympathy: such was a liability in the war against a tyrant and a despot who had none, even if it never was open. I was there at the beginning, and I remember my brother Azas Vem speaking us into motion. This here is my account, and my argument, my reason. This is my thesis. [Pict-capture: Knight-Sergeant Marqius was a brother who had served with us since the earliest days of Crusade and through the punishing days of the Rangdan Genocides that destroyed our Legion. I trusted him with my life, right up until the day he took the blade of a Decurion Paladin meant for me that final day on Caliban.]